Radio Talk
by MistressMarvel
Summary: (AU) The Lord High Protector, Megatron, issues his most trusted Communications officer to shut down his newest aggravation: A radio talk host known as The Voice who hasn't a problem pointing out the flaws of the politicians and other high authority figures. Only, The Voice isn't one to be taken down easily.


_ It's all over the radio. All that you could ever want. It's all over the radio. All that **radio talk.**_

* * *

"_You're listening to The Voice on the beginnin' of this hip Cybertronian cycle with all you happenin' transformin' mechs and femmes out there. Now, I've gotta put it out there for all you funkadelic robos because if I don't, who will?—what's goin' on with those mechs we have on the Council? Ya heard me. It's been all over the broadcast feeds and you betcha, Blaster's gonna cover it too without all the frills and pardons._

_Word up and down the news stream is that a few certain Council Mechs have been spotted in not the _best_ of neighborhoods; if ya catch my drift. Ya diggin what I'm layin down? I mean, have ya seen the pictures of them—."_

There was a loud smash as the radio was sent flying through the air and into the wall of The Lord High Protector's office. He growled loudly before smashing his servos against his desk leaving two large dents in the metal. Even with the radio busted, The Lord High Protector could still hear that arrogant Polyhexian's voice laughing and chuckling into his radio mike while he switched from the latest gossip to mixing beats for the public's enjoyment. He was an obnoxious glitch who spouted out anything that came through as 'news' and gave it to his listeners—a good percentage of Cybertron—without so much as a second thought. The news, they could rein in, the media with their gossip data files all on display, they could rein in, but this mech. Primus forbid, they just couldn't shut this mech up.

"Disgusting little gossip," the Lord High Protector muttered as he began to sift through the data pads on his desk. Reports. Not just any reports either, reports of Council Mech Steelburner and Council Mech Crank entering a brothel in one of the sleaziest sectors of Iacon and then being _busted_ by two enforcers for the purchasing of illegal substances. Not to mention these were two enforcers who worked and reported directly to _Prowl_. Of all Enforcer Chiefs it had to fall under, it had to be Prowl. The one Chief who was unwavering in his stand on the law—Lord High Protector and Council Mechs be slagged. It was bad enough the news had gotten wind of it and was prying enforcement mechs and femmes for information along with those who were on the Council and himself. But they could contain that.

But now that slag headed Polyhexian was spouting off about it, too, and if that wasn't bad enough, what was worse was that the broadcast was sent to all of Cybertron _plus_ the colonies on the moon bases and those a bit farther out. It was just that popular of a broadcast. And now there were apparently pictures! _Pictures_ of the two idiotic Council Mechs who were unabashed but just as furious that _their_ privacy was exposed and were shouting off and asking what _he_ was going to do about it.

What was he supposed to do about it, anyway? Tell the news to stop airing the Council's dirty armor about and tell the radio station, Volts, to stop The Voice's broadcasts at the beginning of every cycle? They'd screech about freedom of speech and then air _that_ on their next broadcast. That just wasn't something he needed at the moment. Less it looked like he was trying to bar Cybertronians from their rights.

"_Apparently, my fab mechs and femmes out there, no charges are being brought to Council Mechs Crank and Steelburner, bless their sparks for getting off with a warnin'; it's so hard for every other bot to do so."_ The Lord High Protector froze as the words that belonged to that blasted radio mech flowed into his room coming from the hall outside. He growled and, tossing the reports aside, strode out into the hall.

The poor messenger bot that was delivering personal datapads to various mechs and femmes in the building nearly leaked oil when The Lord High Protector of Cybertron's voice of thunder ordered him to 'turn that slag off before I shove it up your exhaust pipe' before the office door to his room slid shut with an unsatisfied 'shhk'. The messenger hurried to shut off the portable radio but not before—

"_Thank Primus for The Lord High Protector for keeping our poor Council Mechs out of trouble. They deserve a break."_

The Lord High Protector seethed in his chair as his fist continued to beat dents into the metal of his desk. Prime would discourage his behavior with a shake of his blue helm and a soft sigh while informing his friend that freedom of the press was a right to all of Cybertron and that there was nothing he, Megatron—The Lord High Protector—could do about it. But that opinion was not shared by the council. All the mechs looked at their Lord High Protector with something akin to awe and saw such a mech who would get his servos dirty. A mech that they could trust to use his great size and formidable expression to their advantage when it came to _persuading_ others to get with the program. Someone that _obviously_ didn't have enough on his plate already.

Case in point being now. Not but a joor before, Megatron had been hailed by two representatives from the council asking him to look into, as they put it, 'the business of this mech, The Voice, and perhaps delegate to him about the proper respect one should give to those who protect his rights'. Usually, Megatron didn't mind busting helms and teaching lessons the hard way. It came naturally to impose his will upon others who couldn't get with the program. But this time would be too different. This mech, The Voice, was too close to the public to actually threaten him into silence or to curb his incessant need to gossip about what was none of his business. He'd just go back around and spit it all into that microphone for every listening audio that tuned into his station. The usual bit wouldn't work.

It would have to be subtle. Whatever he did, it would have to be subtle. Sharp, metal digits drummed against the desk as his processor went through every option and resource he had at his disposal. He had the whole of Cybertron. Hundreds of thousands of his army at his disposal. Mechs he could use to take care of a pest that came into play, but he couldn't actually use them. Not to the extent that certain council mechs would have wanted. When it came to wearing a bot down it took persistence and subtlety, two qualities that the Lord High Protector of Cybertron had an abundance of. The art of persuasion was a tricky one, but it could be done.

His digits stopped. Hundreds of thousands of bots at his disposal and he could think of only one who would prove successful in such an endeavor. Opening his comm. link, Megatron hailed his communications officer.

_Soundwave_

The response was immediate.

_ Soundwave: Acknowledges_

* * *

The commute from Iacon to Polyhex wasn't too long. No more than two to three joors of traveling by service tracks, a fast moving train that ran its course all through Cybertron's major cities. Praxus, Tarn, Kaon, Altihex, Protihex, Simfur, Stanix, they were all on the route of the service track train sped across a magnetic track making record breaking time at each stop—always punctual. It wound all the way around the Manganese Mountains, skimmed across the sea of rust, and circled around the towering walls of Vos—the only city it dared not stop at.

But Soundwave didn't need to travel halfway across Cybertron. His stop was Polyhex. Communications capitol of Cybertron, the city that never recharged, where every building had a built in DJ spot and a dance club and the highgrade was like having a taste of Primus himself. It was one of the most toured cities in the region. If you wanted to party, you went to Polyhex, if you wanted to waste your credits on gambling and prostibots and overly priced gifts and Energon, you went to Polyhex. It was not a place that Soundwave would have ever visited on his own for any reason; he had no need for such things, but The Lord High Protector, Lord Megatron, had been adamant that Soundwave get to the bottom of the mess that was the mech called The Voice and shut him down. And that mech just so happened to be stationed in Polyhex.

His orders had been fairly simple: Find The Voice of Cybertron and coerce him to keep his lip plates closed or else he'd be facing the Lord High Protector himself. Soundwave doubted that Megatron would get involved personally, that was why he involved his communications expert in the first place. Being an expert spy as well as a reader of processors whether he was plugged into said mech or femme or just skimming the top of their thoughts that was left unguarded by firewalls.

_'Now arriving at Polyhex'_ came a voice over the speakers settled above them. _'Prepare to disembark_.' The message was repeated again and again so that none could complain of not knowing where they were or if this was there stop.

Soundwave stood and prepared to exit with the others that were visiting the city. He stepped out of the service track, others moving aside as they eyed him warily. His reputation was notorious, his loyalty unfailing, and his skill set widely known. Mechs and femmes tended to avoid him because of this. Not that he minded; Soundwave was content to be in the company of The Lord High Protector and his cassettes.

_'Good cycle to ya all,'_ came the voice over several sets of loud speakers. _'This is The Voice here, jammin' it out to your favorite Cyber-tunes. First one up is Autobop_.' A loud mix played throughout the station and while it wasn't one of Soundwave's favorites, it had a nice beat to it that was slightly pleasing to the audials. Whoever this mech The Voice was, he knew his way around a mixer.

And obviously had a large mouth to boot otherwise Soundwave wouldn't have found himself in such a noisy, over populated city. To prove his point, the tape deck was crashed into, the other bot circling around with a glare on his faceplates.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" He spat, "Crazy tourist," the mech turned from him before Soundwave could point out that said mech was the one that bumped into him not the other way around. The mech was gone before Soundwave could defend himself, and the communications officer decided that it wasn't worth the effort to track down the offender and set him straight—he would just be wasting valuable time that could be spent locating the Voice.

His first stop would be the Voltz station.

The femme behind the receptionist desk at the bottom floor of the Voltz radio station had a bored look on her faceplates when Soundwave entered through the sliding doors. Her tiny servo propped up a rounded helm and symmetrical faceplates and dulled yellow optics took in his presence for a few moments before shifting back to the data pad she had in her other servo. Soundwave stood in front of the desk for a few klicks, pedes shifting on the floor before he spoke up.

"Query," he began, "This is Voltz station?"

The femme didn't even look up from her pad, "Yup." She popped the ending sarcastically, "Didn't you see the sign?"

"Affirmative. Looking for confirmation." Soundwave didn't enjoy talking to others. His speech processing unit was deformed, making vocalization difficult. Of course, Soundwave had gotten around that by stringing his sentences together meticulously sans the frill that most sentences had. It made things easier on his speech processor, but it made conversing with others difficult.

"Well, here's your confirmation," she said still not looking up at him. "Is there anything else that I can help you with?"

"Affirmative. Operation: Speak to mech known as Voice."

He heard her snort dismissively, "Get in line. Everyone wants to speak to the Voice." She flicked her optics up at him, "Against station policy to allow anyone into the station without a permit or proper credentials."

Soundwave nodded and pulled a small data card from his subspace, reaching out and holding it for her to take. His arm remained in the air with the data card with all of his credentials on it held out to her while the femme continued to ignore his presence.

After a few klicks with his arm outstretched in the air awkwardly, Soundwave spoke again. "Credentials: here."

She glanced up enough to look at the data card before going back to her data pad. "Look, sir, no one gets in to see the Voice. I know you may be a big fan, but it's just not happening."

Soundwave pulled his arm back, subspacing the data card. "Correction: Soundwave, not fan." When the femme refused to answer him, Soundwave moved to correct her by explaining just where he was from and exactly _who_ had sent him; he got close, brought his vocalize online, and was interrupted.

"Hey, happenin' mech and femme," came the sudden voice and Soundwave started and turned towards the doors leading to the top where a fellow tape deck had emerged. "What's goin' on?"

Soundwave watched the femme turn and smile brightly at the vibrantly painted, yellow and red tape deck. The reaction to this mech so different from her reaction to him that it was actually insulting.

"Blaster," she said brightly, "I didn't think you left this way."

The mech named Blaster shot her a grin, "Well, ya know, FreeFall, I like to change things up." He glanced up and looked at Soundwave, smile growing. "Hey, mech," he came up to the communication's officer and placed an arm around Soundwave. "It's good to see a fellow cassette carrier! What can I do for you . . . um?"

Soundwave cycled his intakes, "Designation: Soundwave. Objective: Speak to mech known as the Voice."

Blaster nodded, "Soundwave, huh? Well, Soundwave, the Voice has just left the building. Ya know how them big wigs are." He waved a servo in the air, "Is there anything _I_ can do for you? I'm the Voice's schedule keeper, so to speak." He turned and shot the femme, FreeFall (who was giggling behind her servo), a wink. This wasall pointless information to Soundwave; he didn't understand the meaning behind it.

"Query: Appointment with the Voice? Time constraint: none."

Blaster hummed, "I gotta ask, my mech, what's this all 'bout? The Voice is gonna wanna know, ya dig?"

Soundwave tilted his helm and considered the fellow tape deck in front of him. They were the same size, mostly. Soundwave was a bit taller. And while they were both cassette carriers, Soundwave's manual controls rested on his shoulder and pelvic plating, while the other mech's was placed on his abdomen. Soundwave was bathed in blues and navy while Blaster was painted in reds and yellows.

He moved to answer, to tell him that it was none of his business, that he would take it up with the Voice himself. But Blaster beat him to it.

A rough pat on his shoulder plating and a charming smile that made Soundwave uncomfortable. "How 'bout we go for a drink? I've got a little break time before I have to get back." He began leading Soundwave towards the doors, "You can tell me all 'bout it. In fact, I insist." And before Soundwave knew what was going on, he and this mech were through the doors and walking down the street towards a local venue.

* * *

"So you've never been to Polyhex before?" Blaster asked as they sat at a table off to the side. Soundwave constantly shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in crowded places.

"Negative," he answered. "Soundwave: First time." To which the statement received a chuckle from Blaster much to the confusion of Soundwave. "Objective: speak to mech known as the Voice."

Blaster waved the comment away, still chuckling, "Yeah, yeah, you said that. What I wanna know is why?" He grinned in leaned over the table, "Why's the Lord High Protector's spy commin' to talk to the Voice?"

Soundwave jolted, "Status: Known?"

The other tape deck snorted and rolled his optics, "C'mon, mech, how many other tape decks or cassette carriers do you think are out there? I know 'bout ya. So what'cha doin' snoopin' 'round Voltz?" He took a sip of his Energon, "Ol' Megs got a problem with somethin'?"

Soundwave frowned behind his facemask, "Inquiry: none of Blaster's concern. Query: Speak to the Voice."

Blaster drummed his digits along the table before he began to study Soundwave's cassette case. "What kind of cassettes ya got?" When Soundwave absentmindedly grazed his digits along the glass casing, Blaster sighed. "I got two mini mechs and two animaloid cassettes." He tapped his own cassette holder. "They some funky dudes, I'll give 'em that."

Soundwave's visor glinted, "Cassettes: two minimechs, four animaloids."

Blaster whistled, "Wow, that's somethin', Wave."

"Designation: Soundwave." He pointed out.

Blaster smiled, "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya." He checked his chronometer and flinched, "Ouch. Gotta head back to the station before I'm fried." He grinned at Soundwave while placing some credits on the table. "It's my treat, Wave. You can get it next time."

Blaster stood, preparing to walk out when he turned back and hollered, "Do some research, main machine, and then we'll talk. Just tell FreeFall to comm. me." And exited the venue with a vibrant smile on his face.

* * *

Soundwave sat alone on a rented berth in a nice hotel, looking through any information he could get on the Voice. He had done this prior to leaving, but hadn't really found anything useful. He had been on a time constraint then, but now, as he sat alone with his cassettes huddled over him, recharging peacefully, he could dig deeper. He went past government records, that wouldn't help him, and focused on local media articles.

There must have been a hundred of them, most of them with little to no information, but Soundwave kept scanning. Article after article was filed away into his processor until . . .

A picture. There was the mech known as the Voice smiling brightly after receiving his award in Cybertronian Mixing. Smiling and holding the award high in the air was the brightly colored, tape deck from before.

"Designation: Blaster," Soundwave whispered. He would have to go about this an entirely different way.

* * *

_A/N: I know, I know, More BlasterxSoundwave? This couple does not get enough love. And I intend to rectify that problem. _

_Don't worry, I've got a lot of different pairings coming up in different stories, I just got this chapter done first. So I'll quench my need of BlasterxSoundwave and move on to the next couple that catches my fancy. :)_

_Reviews are always loved. Makes me smile._


End file.
